


I Want To Hear You Say It

by FBI



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Other, tummy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:00:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FBI/pseuds/FBI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frederick likes to have his tummy rubbed, but you're not yielding until he admits it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want To Hear You Say It

Frederick was very shy when you first decided to start calling your “little thing” a relationship, he was awkward and constantly flustered; and when it came to sex he had no idea what to do with his hands. But he was sweet, generous and always, without fail, made you smile. One thing you noticed right away about Frederick was that he adored being the centre of attention, be it in a crowded room or just alone with you in the house; he absolutely loved it. It was slightly annoying how he went about getting it, but when he was behind closed doors the arrogance and obnoxious snobbery dissolved into this loud and excitable little man with a penchant for Roman history. You also happened to notice that he was quite possibly the most attractive man you’d ever been involved with, he may have been short and paunchy but those were two things you adored about him completely. His stomach was especially your favourite; round, chubby and just all out adorable. It was awful that he begrudged it but you’d slowly coaxed him away from that mind set with passing touches and constant reassurance; eventually he came to accept it. He embraced it entirely once he realised that you were” totally into it” after a long night of heavy drinking and embarrassing revelations. Tight t-shirts, and often shirtless, had become his regular attire around the house and a specific pair of jeans if he was really trying to get your attention. Once he was comfortable with you touching and commenting on his stomach you realised he enjoyed it as much, if not more than yourself. He grew to love your soft touches and gentle teasing words.

Frederick Chilton liked to have his belly rubbed, or just generally paid attention to. He never asked for it, he thought it might be weird and he didn’t want to come across as strange so early in the relationship. He’d developed little ways to hint that he wanted it; he would without reason don his tightest clothes, occasionally opting to walk around in nothing but his underwear. Another way was he’d eat what is, quite frankly, a ridiculous amount of food and complain about having a stomach ache until you would help ease it. But your favourite way was the one he was displaying currently.  
He’d exhausted the two other methods with you periodically ignoring all of his hints, he was wearing a t-shirt that hugged his belly very close, belly button indent entirely visible and he’d just eaten a worryingly large tray of brownies you’d baked earlier. You’d tried to scold him for it, but he just gave you that puppy dog look he knew melted your insides. He’d stopped moaning about his sore stomach about ten minutes ago and was now looking at your profile as you pretended to read a book. You knew what he wanted but you were going to make him ask for it. He moved closer to you and tried his final hint of stretching out to the point of his shirt lifting up. He knew you were a sucker for that cute and vulnerable act, but you were dragging this out. Your steady expression almost faltered at the look on Frederick’s face, he was actually pouting. He made a discontented noise and shuffled closer to you and his frown deepened when you continued to ignore him. You had all of five seconds of peace before he took the book from your hands and placed it on the coffee table. He’d usually let you continue to do your thing if you were petting his hair or touching his leg, however you had been completely ignoring him and that was entirely unacceptable. You turned to him with a blank expression.  
“What is it, Frederick?” He laid his head in your lap and looked at you expectantly. “Use words please.” You add patronisingly.   
“You’re ignoring me.” He stated.  
“No, I wasn’t. I just wasn’t paying attention to you.” You smile, running a hand through his hair; he hums contently at the contact. After a short while Frederick is looking at you again. “I’m not doing it until you ask me to.” He glowered at you, face tinting red. Of course you knew he liked it, he wasn’t nearly as subtle as he thought he was.  
“Why, if you already know what it is?” His voice carried a slightly huffier tone.  
“Because you’ve been playing this game for weeks and I want to hear you say it.” You continue running your fingers through his thick hair, scratching slightly at his scalp. He tries to keep up his resolve but his eyelids flutter at the scratch.  
“Okay, fine” He relented “you’re a severely sadistic person, you are aware of that?” He blew and angry breathe from his nose and avoided eye contact. “Will you rub my stomach?” He cringed at how utterly ridiculous that sounded. You wanted to laugh, you really did, but he was always so unbearably cute when he was embarrassed.   
“Hmm” you drew out, he wriggled uncomfortably under your gaze “I suppose I could.” You weren’t going to admit it but you’ve been wanting to touch him since he’d came down stairs in the obscene t-shirt, he looked incredibly soft, warm and mostly just plain gorgeous. You brought your hand down on his plush belly and pressed a little, working it in gentle circles rousing a satisfied noise from Frederick. A small smile crept onto his face as you ran your cool hands under his appallingly tight shirt and massaged random shapes against his warm skin. You mentally berate yourself for being so easily manipulated; he knew that you are weak and absolutely cannot resist his pudge. “You’re getting a little chubby.” You smirk, pinching the soft curve of his hip. He flinched away from your fingers and squirmed until you resumed your tender stroking.  
“I’m aware of my own body.” He scoffed, nuzzling his face against your own stomach. “I also happen to know you are all too fond of it.” His self-satisfied words were muffled against your shirt. You dug your fingers into his yielding sides and he flinched away from you again, batting your arm with his hand. “No.” He stated simply. You made a gesture with your hand near his side again and he tensed immediately.  
“Okay, I won’t.” You pat his stomach before continuing to knead his soft belly. He lay like that for a while, occasionally making little pleased sounds when your hands did something particularly fantastic; eventually his breathing grew heavier and his eyelids decided the best course of action was to close. 

It wasn’t long before he was snoring lightly, for a change, under the warm and perpetual motions of your expert hands. As much as you were smitten form him in his conscious state, you had a particularly large soft spot for him while he slept; the way his mouth was always parted slightly and his occasional mumbling, you’d even grown fond of him wrapping around you like a possessive octopus. You also particularly enjoy how he looks first thing in the morning, before the weight of his life crashes back down on him; when he’s still sleep drunk and swaying slightly with his mussed up hair and soft dazed eyes, his empty stomach looking softer beneath his shirt and regardless of how sleepy and grumpy he was he always had a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth because he woke up next to you.


End file.
